


Heart of Darkness

by glitter_glitch



Series: The Butterfly Effect Trilogy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, BAMF Anakin Skywalker, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Clone Wars, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Violence, Guilt, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Palpatine is an Evil Bastard, Plot Twists, Poor Life Choices, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Sophie's Choice, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_glitch/pseuds/glitter_glitch
Summary: Anakin was torn. Should he wait in the bunker, or go back out to help Obi-Wan? Anakin’s orders were clear: protect the Ministers and Padmé. But Obi-Wan and his men were out there, badly outnumbered… They needed help…In the end, Anakin decided to stay where he was, in case the Separatist droids found the bunker and attacked. But was it really because of duty, or… or because he cared more about Padmé’s life than he did about Obi-Wan’s? He didn’t know.Or perhaps he did, and the answer was too horrifying to admit.~Two years after the start of the Clone Wars, a seemingly easy mission goes horribly wrong. Both Obi-Wan and Padmé end up being in serious danger, and Anakin has to make a very difficult decision.Warning: H/C, fluff, mystery, plot twists, and RIDICULOUS amounts of angst. Not kidding.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: The Butterfly Effect Trilogy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852147
Comments: 174
Kudos: 296





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months after Ahsoka’s departure from the Order, Anakin, Obi-Wan and a certain Senator are sent on a seemingly easy mission to Subterrel. This is definitely just an innocent mission and not a carefully calculated part of Sidious’s plan…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. I can’t believe I’m finally writing this! I've had this story in my mind ever since I first saw ROTS in the cinema... in 2005. Please don’t laugh at me.
> 
> This fic was originally intended as the first 5-6 chapters of a longer ROTS AU. But since it’s very self-contained, I decided to post it as a separate story. There will be sequels to this later, but this fic works perfectly fine even without reading them, for those of you who are not fans of long fics.
> 
> Beta read by FloatingFoxtrot.
> 
> Enjoy!

_"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.”_

_\- The Butterfly Effect, the movie_

* * *

**_Interstellar space, two years after the beginning of the Clone Wars._ **

The cruiser’s main hangar was enormous. A vast, cavernous room, with a giant sparkling forcefield on one side, separating it from the cold vacuum of space.

Anakin Skywalker was sitting in a corner of the hangar, staring blankly at the forcefield. Usually, the hangar was packed with starfighters and _LAAT/i_ s, parked so close to each other one could barely walk between them, but not today.

The last battle didn’t go well.

He and Obi-Wan had lost a cruiser, most of the smaller ships, and over a half of their men; and it didn’t end there. They did win the battle, in the end, but at a terrible price. After the Separatist general realized that he had lost the battle, he ordered his remaining droids to kill as many civilians as possible, just as a final middle finger to the Republic. By the time Obi-Wan captured him and forced him to rescind the order, thousands of innocents already lay dead in the streets of the capital city. For no reason at all.

And as soon as the battle was over, the Council was already calling, briefing them about a new mission. The planet of Subterrel, previously neutral, had decided to join the Republic. Their fleet was ordered to depart as soon as possible, rendezvous with whatever Senator was sent to handle the negotiations, and head to Subterrel at best possible speed.

There was no time to wait for reinforcements. The Council was worried that the Prime Minister of Subterrel could change his mind if they kept him waiting too long. The Council wasn’t expecting much trouble, anyway. Subterrel wasn’t a particularly valuable planet, to the Republic or the Separatists. The Separatists didn’t have much of a reason to fight the Republic over it.

Which was why Anakin was sitting there, on an empty box in the main hangar, still wearing his dusty and blood-stained robes. He’d been ordered to welcome the Senator and show them to their sleeping quarters.

The hangar was silent as a grave. All maintenance droids and astromechs were in low power mode, and there was not a living soul in sight, apart from the occasional clone patrols who walked by. The only audible sound was the faint hum of the force field.

Anakin groaned in frustration. He’d been waiting here for over two hours, closer to three now, and the kriffing ship still hadn’t showed up.

 _That’s all right_ , Anakin thought sarcastically. _I haven’t slept for over three days, but it’s fine. Go ahead and take your time. I’ll wait._

He didn’t even know which Senator the Council was sending. All he knew was that it wasn’t going to be Padmé. The Council didn’t know about their secret marriage, didn’t even know that they were anything more than friends, but they disapproved even of that.

_Of course they disapprove. After all, friendship is evil and leads to the Dark Side. Everything’s evil and leads to the Dark Side._

Anakin was sorely tempted to make a quick trip to his quarters, have a shower and change into clean tunics; it would only take him about ten minutes, at most. Not that he had a problem with sweat or dirt. He was more than used to it after the last two years. But the dried blood behind his fingernails and all over his sleeves… the sight of it made him sick.

The blood wasn’t his. After the bombing, Anakin and his men desperately tried to help some of the injured civilians who were still alive. Anakin found a badly injured Twi’lek girl lying face down in the street, in a small puddle of blood. She looked even younger than Ahsoka the day she became his Padawan. He tried to keep pressure on the wound until the medics arrived, but it was no use. He felt her life force quietly fade away just a few minutes later. Yet another life he failed to save.

Anakin shook his head, pushing the painful memory away. He decided to stay where he was. With his luck, the stupid Senator would probably arrive while he was gone, and Obi-Wan would never let him hear the end of it. Anakin could already imagine the long, sarcastic, condescending lecture.

_Seriously, Anakin? You can’t even follow a simple order? Is the sentence “Wait in the main hangar” too complicated for you to understand? Do I have to give it to you in writing next time? Or perhaps a diagram?_

Their relationship had always been a bit rocky, but in the past few months… Anakin couldn’t remember it ever being this bad. Everything Anakin did was suddenly wrong, every strategy he came up with was reckless and stupid, and every small mistake Anakin made required a long-winded lecture or a sarcastic, genuinely hurtful remark.

At first, Anakin tried to be understanding, since Obi-Wan looked as stressed, exhausted and shaken by all of the bloodshed as Anakin felt. But as months passed, nothing changed. If anything, it got even worse. Eventually, even Anakin’s patience ran out. Since then, they pretty much only spoke to each other when they needed to plan a strategy or relay orders.

How did it happen? Anakin wondered. He didn’t know. He wished he did. Yes, they were both tired, stressed out and sleep deprived, but... he knew that there was more to it than that. The war had changed something in both of them, and he wasn’t sure if it could ever be made right again.

Anakin groaned and buried his face in his hands.

He was just so _tired_. Of everything. Of the war, of the constant horrors and deaths, of the Council, of the constant conflicts with Obi-Wan, of having to hide his marriage as if it was a crime. For a second, he almost wished he could do what Ahsoka had done. Just leave the Order and never come back.

But he would never do that, of course. Not while the war was still going on and the mysterious Darth Sidious was somewhere out there, plotting to destroy the Jedi Order and take over the galaxy…

An unexpected, painfully familiar feeling in the Force interrupted Anakin’s thoughts. It felt bright and warm, like the first ray of sunlight breaking through a thunderhead. A second later, a large supply ship dropped out of hyperspace.

_Padmé…? How…?_

The ship glided gracefully into the hangar and landed in its center. The droids came back to life and hurried towards the ship to unload the supplies.

The landing ramp opened and a lone figure walked out, a wide smile lighting up her face. Anakin ran towards her and enveloped her in a crushing hug.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padmé whispered quietly, wrapping her gentle arms around him. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Anakin said, holding her tight. Her hair smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “How in the world did you convince the Council to send you on this mission?”

“I didn’t,” Padmé said, smiling. “I just convinced your old friend Palpatine to send me here, and he took care of the rest. Sometimes, it _is_ nice to have friends in high places.”

Padmé’s voice turned serious. “Oh, Ani. I heard about what happened on your last mission. I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine having to witness something so horrible. Are you all right?”

“Of course I am,” Anakin said. With surprise, he realized that he meant it. As long as she was here… _everything_ was all right.

* * *

In a darkened room, a hologram of a hooded figure flickered into life. Count Dooku knelt and bowed his head. “My Lord.”

“Tyrannus. The time has come. Skywalker, Kenobi and Senator Amidala are on their way. Are you prepared?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good,” Sidious whispered. His voice turned cold. Colder than the void between galaxies. “You know what’s at stake, Tyrannus. Do not dare to fail me this time.”

“I will not fail, Master,” Tyrannus hissed, but even his anger couldn’t quite mask the hint of fear in his voice.

 _Good_ , Darth Sidious thought. _You better be afraid, you worthless, useless scum._ If Dooku’s mission succeeded, victory would be within his reach. Skywalker would be _his_. But should the mission fail... it could destroy everything Sidious had worked for.

“I hope so, Tyrannus,” Darth Sidious said darkly. The threat in his voice was clear. “For your own sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the lines in this chapter was borrowed from Stardust (the movie). If you’re a fan, you can try to spot it :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! As always, please read & review! :)
> 
> Warning: LOTS of angst incoming in the following chapters! Muhahaha.
> 
> Note: The lack of 'Major Character Death' tag doesn't mean that both Obi-Wan and Padmé will necessarily survive this fic. Maybe the'll live, maybe they won't. I just want to avoid spoilers.


	2. Frayed Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission goes pear-shaped quickly, the Team gets pushed past their breaking point, and Anakin has to make a very difficult decision. Also, angst. So much angst.

_ “No matter what you choose, you’ll come out bloody, and hating yourself.” _

_ — Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher _

* * *

**_Subterrel, two years after the beginning of the Clone Wars._ **

The negotiations were boring as hell and seemingly endless. Anakin stopped paying attention about three hours ago, and he really doubted that he missed anything interesting since then. But at least they were going smoothly. Nobody was attempting to murder each other or blow up civilians. That was a nice change.

Anakin was standing a few steps behind Padmé, with his hands clasped behind his back. His objective on this mission was extremely simple.  _ Stand there, and look intimidating. _

About twenty clone troopers had the same objective. They were guarding the exits of the room and patrolling the hallways of the opulent palace where the negotiations were taking place. About half of their troops were manning the cruiser, along with Obi-Wan. The remaining clones were patrolling the streets.

Anakin forced himself to concentrate on the conversation for a moment, just in case, but Padmé and the ministers were still discussing taxes. He tuned out again.

And then he felt it. A cold sensation, instantly and horrifyingly familiar.

A feeling of imminent danger… a warning from the Force—

Anakin’s comlink crackled into life. It was Obi-Wan. “Anakin, get everyone out of there immediately. We’re under attack—”

A deafening  _ boom _ sounded from the comlink, almost blowing out its speakers. The hologram shook violently.

“Are you all right?!”

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan grumbled, picking himself up from the floor of the bridge. There were multiple alarms sounding in the background, a deafening, discordant wail. Something must have seriously damaged the cruiser. Obi-Wan looked down at the cruiser’s console, and turned towards someone standing out of shot. “Cody, send out a distress signal. And start the evacuation immediately!”

“Yes, sir!”

Obi-Wan turned back to Anakin. There were several muted explosions in the background, and the picture shook again. “Anakin, four Separatist cruisers just dropped out of hyperspace right on top of us. We’re badly outnumbered and abandoning the ship. We’ll meet you at the bunker—”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by an ear-splitting, high-pitched noise. The picture disintegrated into static. The Separatists had started jamming all transmissions.

Anakin shut the comlink off, silencing the noise. When he looked up, he realized that the room was silent as a grave. Padmé was staring at him, her eyes wide. And so was everyone else.

Anakin clipped his comlink back to his belt and drew his lightsaber.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

* * *

There was much more to the palace than met the eye. Obi-Wan would have never agreed to hold the negotiations there otherwise. It was built on top of a sprawling labyrinth of underground tunnels, as old as the capital city itself. One of the tunnels led to a bunker deep in the bedrock, well hidden and armored, built for situations just like this.

Anakin and Padmé were in the lead, walking briskly through the narrow tunnels. The clone troopers and ministers hurried behind them. Anakin could only pray that he had memorized the path to the bunker correctly.

The tunnels were pitch black; Anakin’s ignited lightsaber and the clones’ glow sticks were the only sources of light. The walls of the tunnels were covered in old drawings and scribblings, made by the adventurers who had explored the catacombs over the centuries. Some of them were quite obscene.

Anakin  _ hated _ tunnels. And caves. They made him feel trapped and uneasy, as if the ceiling was going to collapse on the top of his head at any moment and bury him in the cold darkness forever.

The Force made it even worse. He could  _ feel _ the full weight of the rock, soil and buildings above their heads. If that soil shifted, just a little bit…  _ no, don’t think about it _ , Anakin quickly tried to order himself.

Several minutes later, Anakin stopped. The wall to his left looked no different than the others: damp, cracked, and covered in crude drawings. Anakin tapped a small drawing of an eye in a specific rhythm and and the wall slid open, revealing the entrance to the bunker.

Once they were all inside, the door closed noiselessly behind them, as it was never there. Despite the situation, Anakin couldn’t help but admire the ingenious design. If he didn’t know exactly what to look for, he would have never found it.

The interior of the bunker was plain and practical. A large circular room with drab grey walls and plenty of chairs, with three small rooms connected to it: a ‘fresher, a tech room with a water and air recycler, and a small storage room with a generous supply of blankets and meal packs. Hopefully, they weren’t going to be stuck here long enough to need those.

Many of the ministers looked terrified, and three of them were sobbing uncontrollably. Padmé immediately went to comfort them. Despite the situation, Anakin had to smile a little. His kind, tough, wonderful wife. He couldn’t have married a more amazing woman.

Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses. The situation on the surface of the planet came to him in fleeting, dizzying flashes.

_ Obi-Wan’s starfighter and several LAAT/is hurtling towards the planet’s surface through thick clouds and a hail of laserfire _ —

_ The burning cruiser, broken in two, falling out of the sky _ —

_ Legions of battle droids marching through the streets _ —

_ The clone troopers who had been guarding the streets, attempting to retreat towards the palace, but they were too far… they weren’t going to make it… _

_ Screams… pain, chaos, and death… _

Anakin opened his eyes and shook his head, returning back to the here and now.

He was torn. Should he wait in the bunker, or take a few of his men and go back out to help Obi-Wan? Anakin’s orders were clear: protect the ministers and Padmé at all costs. But Obi-Wan and his men were out there, badly outnumbered… They needed help…

In the end, Anakin’s sense of duty prevailed. He had to stay where he was, in case the Separatist droids found the bunker and attacked. But was it really because of duty, or… or because he cared more about Padmé’s life than he did about Obi-Wan’s? He didn’t know.

Or perhaps he did, and the answer was too horrifying to admit.

After fifteen torturous minutes of waiting, the bunker’s door flew open. Obi-Wan, Cody, and about twenty clones burst in. Obi-Wan leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. His cloak was scorched in several places, from blaster bolts that had just barely missed their mark, but he seemed to be unhurt.

Half of the clones weren’t so lucky. They got shot in the arm or their shoulder during their retreat, and were leaning against the wall and moaning with pain. Anakin didn’t need to ask what happened to the ones who got shot in the leg or chest.

“That’s it, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan said quietly, an answer to Anakin’s unspoken question. “Everyone else is dead.”

He kept his voice down, to make sure the ministers couldn’t hear him. They already looked terrified as it was; there was no need to make it even worse.

Obi-Wan wiped the sweat from his forehead, ordered Cody to take care of the injured men and headed towards the tech room.

“Anakin, follow me,” Obi-Wan ordered sternly, without even looking at him.

Anakin groaned.  _ Great. He’s in one of his bad moods again. Oh, joy. _ But he said nothing. Now was not the time for arguments.

He followed Obi-Wan into the tech room and closed the door behind them, so they could plan their next move with some privacy. With the door closed and the loud hum of the machinery filling the air, nobody outside of the room could hear a single word they said.

“I have bad news,” Obi-Wan said. He sighed. “The Separatists destroyed the cruiser’s transmitter before we could send out a distress signal, which means that nobody knows we’re in trouble yet. But there’s a large comm tower in the center of the city which should be powerful enough to reach Coruscant, even through the jamming. Here’s the plan: Cody and all of our men will stay here and protect the ministers, while the two of us will sneak into the comm tower and send out the distress signal.”

Anakin couldn’t believe his ears.

“Um, no,” he said, frowning. “There are only about thirty clone troopers in here, almost half of them injured. They’re in no state to protect anyone. If the Separatists find this bunker while we’re gone, everyone inside will get slaughtered. One of us has to stay here.”

_ And that someone will have to be me, since I don’t trust you to keep Padmé safe, _ Anakin wanted to add, but he didn’t.

“The entrance to the bunker is well hidden. The Separatists are very unlikely to find it.”

“Unlikely,” Anakin repeated bitterly. “Is that it? Are you going to bet everyone’s lives on that?”

Obi-Wan’s groaned impatiently. “Anakin, we don’t have  _ time _ for this. I really didn’t want to say it that way, but you leave me no choice. I don’t have time to argue with you right now. I’m in command of this mission, not you, and you  _ will _ follow my orders.”

Anakin gritted his teeth. “No. I’m _ not _ leaving everyone here unprotected—”

“Oh, that’s touching. How much you suddenly care about their safety,” Obi-Wan spat out sarcastically. His expression hardened. “Or, to be more precise, how much you care about the safety of  _ one _ particular politician, am I correct?”

Anakin’s heart stopped. Did he…  _ know _ ? Or just suspect? By some miracle, Anakin managed to keep his expression blank and neutral.

"Senator Amidala and I are nothing more than fr—”

"Oh, please don’t insult my intelligence, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupted him harshly. “Just how naïve do you think I am? Everyone who’s not blind can see that you have feelings for her.”

"Oh, really?” Anakin snapped back, his blood boiling. What he was about to say was a low blow, but he really didn’t care anymore. "That’s pretty rich, coming from the person who ran off to Mandalore against the Council’s orders to save his g—”

Obi-Wan’s fist flew up, lightning-fast, coming to a stop half a centimeter from Anakin’s face.

For a second, Obi-Wan stood still, shaking with barely contained anger and grief. His face was completely white. Then he slowly pulled his hand back and let it drop back to his side.

“Two things,” Obi-Wan said coldly. “One. Don’t ever _ dare  _ to use Satine against me again. Two. Yes, I  _ did _ have feelings for her before she died. But I never acted on those feelings.”

His voice shook. “Unlike you, I put my duty first. I hope that one day you’ll realize that not everyone is as self-centered as you, Anakin. Although I doubt it. The Council was right, twelve years ago. You were not ready to become a Jedi. I wish I had listened to them.”

Anakin flinched, as if Obi-Wan had really hit him. He  _ wished _ that Obi-Wan had hit him. It would have hurt much less than this. He furiously blinked back tears, desperately fighting to stop the pain from showing on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin said bitterly. “I’m not going to bother you with my presence for much longer. When this mission is over, I’m going to put in a request to be moved to a different battle group. I’ve wanted to do it for quite a while, actually. You’ll have to find someone else to take your bad moods out on. I feel sorry for them already.”

Anakin felt a cruel satisfaction as he saw the flash of shock and pain on Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan stared at him for a while, his expression unreadable. A small, foolish part of Anakin was almost secretly hoping that he would ask Anakin to reconsider, but… 

“Very well,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

They stood in silence some more. They were only a few feet apart, but it might as well have been several light years.

_ No!  _ some small part of Anakin’s mind whispered desperately.  _ No, what are you doing? You can’t let it end like that.  _ It pleaded with Anakin to say something, to do something. To apologize for bringing up Satine in such a horribly cruel way. To try to make things between them right again.

_ Please,  _ the voice in Anakin’s mind begged him.  _ You can’t let twelve years of friendship just… end like this. That’s exactly what the Sith want. They want to turn you against each other. If you let that happen, all will be lost. _

But another part of him, the part filled with pain and anger, ignored it.  _ No. _ Obi-Wan didn’t  _ want  _ him there, he never even wanted to train him to begin with. Anakin had suspected as much as a child, especially in their first year together, but now he had it confirmed. So why should Anakin bother him with his presence any longer? At least the conflicts were finally going to be over.

The moment passed, and Anakin said nothing.

“There’s no time to waste,” Obi-Wan said, his voice normal and emotionless once more. As if he didn’t even care about what just happened. “I’m going to send out the distress signal on my own. Stay here with your precious Senator until I return.”

He turned on his heel and left, leaving Anakin standing in the middle of the small room, lost and completely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry.
> 
> Anyway, please leave a review on your way out! Reading reviews is seriously the best part about writing fanfics! :)


	3. The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan tries to send out the distress signal. It doesn't go well.

The streets of the capital city were teeming with battle droids, but this wasn’t Obi-Wan’s first time sneaking through the enemy lines. He was already two-thirds of the way towards the comm tower and making good progress.

His anger was slowly fading away, leaving behind only guilt and shame.

Oh, Force… what had he done? What possessed him to tell Anakin that he regretted taking him as his Padawan? It wasn’t true, not a single word of it.

Hearing his dearest friend throw Satine’s death into his face in such a cruel way hurt more than words could describe. Obi-Wan had let his grief and pain get the better of him for a moment. He wanted to make Anakin suffer just as much. He almost punched him in the face right there and then, only stopping himself at the very last moment. Instead, he blurted out the first hurtful thing that came to his mind, but, Force, he didn’t mean it. He could never mean it.

But judging from Anakin’s reaction, he believed it instantly. That felt like a punch in the gut. Even after twelve years, he still believed that Obi-Wan never really wanted to be his Master, or his friend. And Obi-Wan was too hurt and angry to apologize and explain that it wasn’t true, and never would be.

And there was another thing. Obi-Wan _had_ been taking out his bad mood on Anakin, even though he didn’t realize it at the time. But that was no excuse. Now that he looked back, he was horrified at how cruel he had been to his former Padawan.

What made it even worse was the fact that Anakin had been trying to help him for _months_. Anakin tried to talk to him countless times, especially after the more traumatic and bloody battles. He offered to write the mission reports so that Obi-Wan could get a bit more sleep. He would give Obi-Wan a small reassuring smile when he walked by. Only for Obi-Wan to harshly reject his help every time. Eventually, even Anakin gave up. Who wouldn’t?

Obi-Wan shook his head, forcing himself to focus on here and now. There was no time for this, not now. If he failed to send out the distress signal, they were all doomed. His apology would have to wait until this mission was over.

Of course, it was possible that it was way too late to make things between them right again. In fact, after what happened today… it was almost certain.

* * *

Obi-Wan snuck past the last pair of patrolling droids and peeked from behind the corner. The entrance to the comm tower was right in front of him, just across the street. It was guarded by six droidekas and at least a dozen super battle droids, too many to possibly fight alone.

But that was all right. He wasn’t planning on entering that way.

Obi-Wan slowly circled the enormous building, careful to stay out of sight, until he found what he was looking for: a ventilation inlet on the side of the tower, about six meters above the ground, just large enough for him to squeeze through.

Obi-Wan waited until the patrolling battle droids walked past, before leaping up and quickly cutting a circular hole in the durasteel grating. He squeezed through the hole and placed the cut-out section back into place behind him.

After crawling through the ducts for several meters, Obi-Wan sliced through another grating and jumped down onto the emergency staircase inside the tower.

Just as he expected, the inside of the comm tower was much less guarded than the outside. The narrow stairwell was completely empty, and when he reached the control room on the highest floor, he found it guarded only by a handful of battle droids. Obi-Wan cut through them with ease and locked the door behind him.

He hesitated, his fingers hovering above the comm console.

He had a sudden, bad feeling about this. It was almost _too_ easy. Sure, the main entrance to the tower was well guarded, but the Separatists had been fighting Jedi for two years now. They knew how high Jedi could jump, and that their lightsabers could cut through almost anything. Did they really not expect Anakin or Obi-Wan to find another way into the tower? Could it be a trap?

Trap or not, he had no choice. If he didn’t send out the distress signal, they were all dead. Obi-Wan quickly tapped a sequence of numbers into the console. The enormous satellite dish on the rooftop of the tower started turning, aligning itself to point towards Coruscant.

Obi-Wan winced. Even if the Separatists hadn’t known that he was here before, they definitely knew it now. He had to hurry.

The satellite dish moved into position, and a shimmering hologram of Master Yoda appeared above the console. _Oh, thank the Force._

“Master Yoda, we were ambushed by the Separatists.” Obi-Wan blurted out before Master Yoda could say anything. There was no time for politeness. “We need reinforcements immediately—”

And the transmission cut out before he could say another word. The hologram disappeared and the console went dark.

The door behind him slammed open. Obi-Wan turned around, staring at a shocking amount of super battle droids. There were at least fifteen of them, maybe even more. How did they get there so quickly? He thought he had more time than that—

“Fire,” someone barked out, and the room filled with blaster fire.

Obi-Wan immediately knew that it was game over. The control room had no other exits, and there were far too many blaster bolts to possibly block. He still managed to cut through four of the droids before one of the blaster bolts slipped past his blade and hit him in his left shoulder.

Obi-Wan collapsed to the floor with an agonized scream, the lightsaber falling out of his numb fingers.

 _There is no death, there is the Force,_ he thought, closing his eyes instinctively.

But the pain he expected didn’t come.

The droids have stopped firing. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, blinking away the tears of pain.

The super battle droids were standing in a wide circle around him, pointing their blaster arms at him, but they weren’t shooting. Two of the droids stepped aside to allow two large figures to walk into the control room.

_Oh no._

Obi-Wan recognized both of them instantly. Admiral Trench and General Lok Durd of the Separatist army. He and Anakin had fought both of them in the past. The last time they ran into Lok Durd was on Lanteeb; Obi-Wan still had occasional nightmares about the absolute mess that mission had turned into.

As for Trench, he had been presumed dead after the battle of Christophsis. His left arm was mechanical now, and so was the left half of his face and one of his six eyes. But he was still very much alive.

“General Kenobi,” Lok Durd sneered, kicking Obi-Wan’s lightsaber out of his reach and into the corner of the room. “Still as predictable as ever. But I’m afraid that your precious Republic won’t come to your rescue this time.”

At least they didn’t know that he already sent the message. But that was the only positive thing about the situation.

"What do we do with him?” Trench hissed.

"Dooku’s orders were clear. Shoot him.”

“No.”

The left part of Trench’s face, the mechanical part, twitched. Anakin was the one who caused those injuries, by redirecting Trench’s torpedoes into the bridge of his own cruiser. Obi-Wan didn’t need the Force to tell him what Trench was thinking about right now. Revenge. Anakin wasn’t there, but Obi-Wan was…

“Let’s send the Republic a message,” Trench said, with the Harch equivalent of a sadistic grin. “Let’s throw him down from the rooftop.”

"Can’t Jedi survive falls from ridiculous heights?”

"Then the patrols on the streets will finish him off. But I don’t think that it will be… necessary.”

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan thought, Trench’s guess was brutally accurate. The pain was blinding, nauseating, making it impossible to move, speak or ever think clearly. Trying to reach the Force was like trying to grab a wisp of smoke with his hand. Impossible. It took all of his fading strength just to remain conscious. He wouldn’t be able to use the Force to slow down his fall.

And even if he somehow did, it wouldn’t help him much. A bright red stain was slowly spreading across his tunic. The blaster bolt had failed to cauterize the injury completely. Even if the fall and the droids didn’t do him in, the bleeding soon would.

Trench and Lok Durd roughly pulled Obi-Wan to his feet, making him cry out in pain. They dragged him out of the control room and up the narrow staircase leading to the roof of the comm tower. The enormous satellite dish towered above their heads. There were no railings. Trench and Lok Durd dragged Obi-Wan to the edge of the platform, stopping just half a step away from it. At this height, the wind was howling loudly and playfully tugging at their clothes, threatening to pull them all into the bottomless abyss.

Obi-Wan risked a look down. From this height, the droids patrolling the streets looked no bigger than ants. He desperately tried to pull his arms out of Lok Durd and Trench’s vice-like grip, but it was no use.

_Anakin, I’m sorry. I wish we could have parted ways on better terms. I would give anything for a chance to tell you that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m so sorry._

“Any last words, Jedi?” Trench sneered.

Despite the situation, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile a little. He was going to die, nothing could stop that now, but these two have made a terrible mistake. They were standing too close to the edge.

“See you in hell,” Obi-Wan spat out. He grabbed Trench’s and Lok Durd’s arms tightly, ignoring the explosion of blinding pain the movement caused. And then he threw himself forward with the last strength he had left, dragging all three of them over the edge of the platform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please read & review! :)


	4. By Each Crime and Every Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very, very angsty aftermath of what just happened.

_“Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”_

— _Sonmi 451, Cloud Atlas_

* * *

“No…!” The scream was blood-curdling and horrifying, coming from somewhere behind Obi-Wan’s back.

For a moment, everything stopped.

The air seemed to freeze and turn solid, stopping them all from falling. There was a loud _snap-hiss_ of two lightsabers igniting at once, and Lok Durd and Trench gasped as two blue lightsaber blades exploded out of their chests. The invisible hand released them, letting their bodies tumble to the ground far below. They landed several long seconds later with a sickening, wet thud.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Obi-Wan’s chest, saving him from the same fate. Arms in loose black sleeves, one of them hidden inside a black leather glove.

_Anakin…? How…?_

Anakin dragged him to safety and gently lowered him to the floor. _Well, that’s not good,_ Obi-Wan thought, as he caught a brief glimpse of his blood-soaked tunics. Anakin gasped in horror as he noticed the blood, too.

Anakin’s lips moved, as if he was saying something, but Obi-Wan could no longer hear the words. His consciousness was quickly fading, and he had no idea if he was going to wake up again. Probably not. The reinforcements would take at least half a day to arrive, most likely longer, and he doubted that he had that much time left.

There was not enough time to apologize, or to say anything at all. All he had time for was to give his beloved former Padawan a sad smile and lightly brush his fingers against Anakin’s cheek, like Qui-Gon had done to him, many years ago. It meant _goodbye_ , it meant _I’m sorry_ , it meant a thousand other things he would never get a chance to say.

A second later, his hand slowly sank back down, against his will, and everything went dark.

* * *

**_Subterrel, twenty-five minutes earlier._ **

Anakin sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the bunker, staring at a wall. Obi-Wan had left about five minutes earlier, leaving Anakin, Cody and the rest of the clones to protect the ministers.

Anakin’s anger was slowly fading away, leaving behind only guilt and shame.

What the kriff was wrong with him? He knew better than anyone how much Satine’s death had hurt his former Master. Anakin was the one who found him after his return from Mandalore, kneeling on the floor in the ‘fresher in his quarters, still dressed in blood-stained Mandalorian armor. Shaking and dry-heaving over the toilet, even though there was nothing left to throw up anymore.

The worst of the grief faded in time, but Obi-Wan was never the same after that. He talked less, smiled less, and became more sarcastic and bitter.

And Anakin had thrown Satine’s death in his face anyway, knowing full well how much pain it would cause. And then, instead of apologizing, Anakin had doubled down and said he planned to transfer to a different fleet. But he didn’t _mean_ it, not a single word of it. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted things to go back to the way they once were, that was all. But he had let his pain and anger get the better of him. Again.

Anakin sighed and buried his face in his hands.

There was something else, too.

Did he really make the right decision by staying there? He had to protect Padmé, he wouldn’t survive it if anything happened to her. But Obi-Wan was right. Anakin had seen how well hidden the bunker was. Padmé was as safe there as she could possibly get.

But Obi-Wan was out there, completely alone, surrounded by hundreds or even thousands of battle droids. He could very easily die because of Anakin’s stubbornness. Their conflicts were one thing, but kriffing hell, none of that mattered right now. This was life and death.

And there was something else nagging at the back of Anakin’s mind, too. A vague feeling of wrongness. Why would Dooku redirect so much of the Separatist forces to attack such an insignificant planet? It didn’t make any sense. Something wasn’t right.

Anakin sighed, stood up and headed towards Cody. “Commander, there’s been a change of plans. I’m going after Master Kenobi to help him send out the distress signal. Make sure everyone here stays safe until we return.”

Cody nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Anakin opened the door, casting a last fleeting look at Padmé. She was still too busy comforting the three crying ministers to notice that he was leaving. Anakin felt a surge of guilty relief. He really didn’t want to explain to her why he was leaving only now, and not five minutes ago.

Anakin walked out into the dark catacombs, made sure the door closed properly behind him, and ran.

* * *

Anakin ran up the last flight of stairs and opened the door of the comm room. He gasped in surprise as he saw almost a dozen super battle droids standing in the comm room.

They started firing.

Only a desperate leap backwards prevented Anakin from getting killed right there and then. A barrage of laser bolts flew through the spot where he’d been standing just a split second ago and set the wall on fire.

Anakin sprinted back down the staircase, cursing loudly, the super battle droids in hot pursuit. The only thing that saved him from a certain death was the design of the staircase. It was winding and very narrow, forcing the droids to pursue him single file. It allowed Anakin to use the body of the closest droid to shield himself from the others. He still got almost hit several times before he disposed of them all.

Anakin sliced the final droid in half and sprinted back upstairs. The control room was empty now, but something shiny in the corner of the room caught his attention. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.

Anakin’s heart stopped. No Jedi would ever part with their lightsaber willingly. And… _oh, Force…_ There was blood on the floor.

Anakin picked up the lightsaber with shaking hands and ran out of the control room.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin shouted, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.

There was no answer. The tower was silent as a grave. The only sound he could hear was a distant whistling of wind.

Wind? There were no open windows. Where was it coming from?

Anakin followed the sound, quickly discovering a door which had been left open. There was a narrow staircase behind it, leading up. Anakin ran up the stairs, finding himself on the rooftop of the tower.

Anakin froze in horror. There were two creatures—a Harch and a fat Neimoidian—standing at the edge of the platform, with their backs turned to Anakin, roughly holding Obi-Wan between them. He was unnaturally still and limp, as if he was barely conscious.

“Any last words, Jedi?” the Harch sneered.

Obi-Wan said something Anakin couldn’t hear and threw himself forward, dragging all three of them over the edge of the platform.

“No…!” Anakin gasped in horror. He reached out with the Force instinctively, stopping them all from falling.

Anakin leapt forward and stabbed the two Separatist officers from behind with his and Obi-Wan’s lightsabers. He released them, letting their bodies tumble to the ground far below. They landed several long seconds later with a sickening, wet thud.

Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s chest and dragged him backwards, to safety. He lowered him to the ground as gently as he could and gasped in horror. Obi-Wan’s tunic was soaked with bright red blood, and his face was completely white. He was staring at Anakin, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Anakin could feel his consciousness quickly fading away.

“No,” Anakin whispered, his voice shaking uncontrollably. “No, don’t… please, stay with me…”

Obi-Wan didn’t react to his words, didn’t seem to even hear them. He weakly raised his hand and touched Anakin’s cheek, smiling sadly. Anakin’s heart shattered into pieces when he realized what the gesture meant. He didn’t expect to wake up again. It was a silent goodbye.

Obi-Wan’s hand slowly sank back to the floor and his eyes drifted closed. He didn’t open them again.

“No…” Anakin whispered, shaking him harshly. “Wake up! _Wake up!_ ”

There was no response. His body was as limp as a ragdoll.

Anakin pressed two fingers against the side of Obi-Wan’s neck, frantically searching for a pulse. He found one, very fast and weak, but steady.

Anakin took a shaky breath, in and out, forcing himself to remain calm. His former Master was just unconscious, not dead. While the bleeding was serious, Anakin could cauterize the wound with his lightsaber. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but it would do the job. The situation was not hopeless yet.

But that would have to wait. Right now, they had to go. Anakin had no doubt that half of the kriffing Separatist army was already on their way to the comm tower.

Anakin slung Obi-Wan’s motionless body over his shoulder and stood up. He opened up his mind to the Force, letting his anger and fear give him strength, as it always had. He took a short running start, and jumped as far as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Sadly, my wonderful beta will soon be too busy to check my fics anymore, so I'm in a need of a new beta reader. If you know about a SW beta reader that would have time to help me out (or you would like to do it yourself), pls let me know! Thank you :)
> 
> As always, please read & review! :)


	5. Waiting and Soul Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-Wan hide and wait for the reinforcements. Also, so much angst!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains brief references to AOTC, Clone Wars Gambit: Siege and Clone Wars: Wild Space by Karen Miller, and also to the Blue Shadow Virus TCW arc.

The momentum of his leap carried Anakin thirty meters to the rooftop of another skyscraper. He quickly regained his balance, took another running start and jumped again.

After several more soaring leaps, Anakin ended up on a rooftop of another skyscraper. He could no longer see the comm tower, it was obscured by a different building. That was good. If he couldn’t see the comm tower, the battle droids who were undoubtedly already swarming the rooftop couldn’t see him, either.

There was a large duracrete cube on the rooftop, with a door on it. It looked like a turbolift machine room. Anakin stabbed the locking mechanism with his lightsaber and the door opened.

Anakin’s guess turned out to be spot on. It was a machine room, all right. A bit greasy and dusty, but he wasn’t exactly picky about hiding places at the moment. They were safe, for now.

Anakin closed the door behind them and gently lowered his former Master to the floor. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin whispered. There was no reaction. He was still unconscious, which was probably a good thing, considering what Anakin would have to do to him.

Anakin removed Obi-Wan’s belt, opened his tunics and carefully pulled the fabric away from his injured shoulder.  _ Oh, Force. _ This wasn’t good. The bleeding showed no signs of slowing down. Anakin took a deep breath, ignited his lightsaber and lightly pressed the tip of the blade against the injury.

The smell and sight of what he was doing were so horrifying that it almost made Anakin puke. If Obi-Wan was conscious, he would have screamed loudly enough for half of the capital city to hear it.

But it worked. The bleeding stopped. The burn was most likely going to leave an ugly scar, but it was much preferable to certain death. Anakin deactivated his blade and closed his eyes for a moment, shaking uncontrollably and fighting nausea.

Obi-Wan’s face was deathly pale and sweaty, even though he was shivering. His heartbeat was so weak and thready that Anakin could barely feel it. He was going into shock, he had to be. Anakin had stopped the bleeding, but there was nothing he could do about the blood he had already lost.

Anakin struggled to stay calm and remember what he was supposed to do in that situation. All Padawans attended a mandatory first aid class led by Master Che, but that was over ten years ago. Anakin closed his eyes, trying to remember what she said. Lay the person down… elevate their legs… try to do something about the pain… stop the bleeding… keep them warm… uh… there was probably much more, but that was all Anakin could remember at the moment.

Anakin took off his outer tunic and draped it over Obi-Wan’s body to keep him warm, even though it wasn’t going to make much of a difference. Both of them had left their cloaks in the bunker, although that probably wouldn’t have helped much, anyway. Jedi’s cloaks were made of thin fabric and worn mostly because of tradition, not for any practical reasons.

Anakin grabbed a large empty box from the corner of the elevator room, dusted it off and slid it under Obi-Wan’s legs. Finally, Anakin folded his sash and tabards and placed them under his former Master’s head as a makeshift pillow. That was all he could do for now.

After several frightening minutes, a tiny bit of color finally started to return to Obi-Wan’s face. His breathing and heartbeat slowed down slightly. Anakin almost wept with relief when Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, moaning in pain. His pale face scrunched up into a pained grimace, and he weakly clutched his injured shoulder. “Hurts…”

Anakin’s heart broke. “I know, Master. I’m so sorry. I had to cauterize the injury with my lightsaber, or you would have bled out.”

Anakin pulled a painkiller injector from his pocket and injected it into the side of Obi-Wan’s neck, although he doubted that it was going to help much. Those things were meant to dull pain from minor injuries, while still allowing the Jedi to think clearly and continue fighting. They were practically useless for those levels of pain.

Anakin desperately wanted to reassure Obi-Wan that he was going to be all right, but he couldn’t, not yet. There was something he needed to ask, and he had no idea how long his former Master was going to stay conscious. Reassurances could wait. This could not.

“Did you manage to send out the message to the Council?” Anakin asked him urgently.

If the message hadn’t gone through, Anakin would have to somehow have to try to send it again, and right now, he had absolutely no idea how to do that. He would either have to fight his way back to the control room of the comm tower, which was impossible, or fight his way to a landing pad and steal a ship, which was even more impossible. The battle droids had the whole city on lockdown.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Well, at least they had  _ that _ .

“Thank the Force. When are they going to arrive?“

“I don’t… know,” Obi-Wan wheezed out. Tears of pain started slowly rolling down his temples. “The transmission… got cut… ahh… too soon, I didn’t… I couldn’t… oh, Force, that hurts… make it stop, Anakin, please,  _ make it stop _ …”

“All right, all right,” Anakin said. The reinforcements were on their way, that’s what mattered, even if nobody knew when they would arrive. They would just have to wait it out. Anakin just hoped that it was going to be measured in hours, and not  _ days. _

Anakin gently placed his fingers on Obi-Wan’s temples. A powerful sleep suggestion would do the trick. “May I?”

“You… may. Just… hurry…”

Anakin closed his eyes and cleared his mind as much as he could, and sent a powerful, soothing command through the Force.  _ Sleep. _

Normally, Force suggestions were almost impossible to do on Jedi. Not to mention that mind tricks weren’t Anakin’s forte, anyway. He had always excelled at Force feats that required sheer power, like jumping and lifting, throwing or crushing things. But he wasn’t any good at the more refined abilities like mind tricks, or healing.

Ironically, Obi-Wan was great at both of those things. Which was the exact opposite of helpful right now.

But there was one advantage to being the Chosen One. What Anakin lacked in skill, he made up for in sheer power. While Obi-Wan’s instinctive mental shields were tougher than durasteel, Anakin did have the brute strength to simply overpower him. It wasn’t pretty—having someone else brutally claw their way into your mind was exactly as painful as it sounded—but it worked. Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body relaxed with a soft exhale. At least he was at peace for now.

Unfortunately, that was all Anakin could do for him. Jedi didn’t carry any medical supplies other than a couple of those useless painkiller injectors. That was the job of the clone medics, who were all either dead or in the bunker, on the other side of the city. And none of them had their backpacks with them, anyway. There was no time to grab anything during the evacuation.

Not for the first time, Anakin cursed his lack of talent for healing. It was pathetic. He was the Chosen One, the most powerful Jedi alive, and yet he couldn’t heal even a papercut. 

And it wasn’t for the lack of trying. Anakin had tried to learn it several times in the past. But he just… couldn’t do it. No matter how hard he tried. Obi-Wan had always reminded him that it wasn’t his fault. That such an ability was one of the rarest gifts the Force could bestow upon a Jedi. Only very few had it. But that never made Anakin feel any better.

If he had that gift, he could have prevented so many senseless deaths. His mother. So many of his men and civilians. The young girl who died in his arms on his previous mission. Even Obi-Wan had almost died several times in the past because Anakin had been unable to help him.

The closest call had been after that terrorist attack on Coruscant about a year ago. The shockwave from the explosions made Obi-Wan lose control of his citibike and threw him onto a rooftop from a great height. His injuries were… horrifying, there was no other word for it. Anakin got there within minutes, but there was nothing he could do but helplessly sit at his side and wait for the Healers to arrive. It took them less than ten minutes to show up, but even that was almost too late. If they had arrived just a minute or two later, he wouldn’t have made it.

Another terrifying incident happened on that disastrous mission to Lanteeb just a few months later. Obi-Wan was unhurt then, but multiple villagers were severely injured in a damotite mine explosion. Obi-Wan almost killed himself while attempting to heal them.

While the Force was infinite, a Jedi’s energy was not. Using the Force to save someone else’s life always meant risking one’s own. Give away too much, and you would die. The professional Healers mitigated that risk by working together, but Anakin was unable to help.

In the end, that mission had a happy ending. Both his former Master and all of the injured villagers survived. But Anakin remembered how close it had been. If Anakin was able to help him, there would have been no danger at all.

And now… it was possible that this was it. Anakin doubted that the reinforcements were going to arrive any time soon. His honest guess would be anywhere between twelve and twenty-four hours from now. Closer to twenty-four, or even longer. It was possible that… that they wouldn’t get there in time.

Anakin sighed and shook his head, forcing himself to push such thoughts away.

Instead, he pulled out his comlink and tried to call Cody. He needed to ask him about the situation in the bunker. But the Separatists were still jamming all communications. Anakin closed his eyes and reached out with the Force instead. Padmé, Cody and the others in the bunker were alive and safe, at least for now, he could sense it.

Of course they were. Anakin had seen how well the bunker was hidden. The droids were very unlikely to find it, especially now that both Trench and Lok Durd were dead.

Obi-Wan was right, as always. Padmé was never in any danger. Anakin should have gone with Obi-Wan to the comm tower from the very beginning. He had let his feelings for Padmé cloud his judgement. And it was possible that it was going to cost his former Master his life.

And the worst thing was that this wasn’t the first time Anakin had let his worry for Padmé endanger others. There had been close calls before.

When Padmé was thrown out of the  _ LAAT/i _ on Geonosis two years ago, Anakin very nearly jumped after her. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he could sense that she wasn’t hurt by the fall. If she was, Anakin would have jumped, he knew it. He would have left Obi-Wan to face Dooku alone.

And die. Dooku would have killed him.

Later, there was that incident with the Blue Shadow Virus on Naboo. Both Ahsoka and Padmé were infected and close to death, and there was a possibility that there wouldn’t be enough of the antidote to save both of them. That he would have to choose between saving the life of his wife and the life of his Padawan. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, and in the end, there was enough antidote for everyone. But if there wasn’t… who would he have chosen to save?

And there were several other small incidents over the past two years. Each time, Anakin somehow managed to avoid having to make any horrible choices. Until today.

Anakin lightly touched Obi-Wan’s cold hand, letting his Force perception flow through his entire body. Things weren’t looking good. Anakin’s lightsaber had stopped most of the bleeding, but not all of it. There was some more bleeding deeper inside, that Anakin’s blade couldn’t reach without doing catastrophic damage. It was very slow, barely noticeable, but it would add up over time.

How much time did he have left? Would it be enough? There was no way to tell.

Anakin shivered. Outside, the sun was setting and the temperature was quickly dropping. The machine room they were hiding in had no heating. Obi-Wan’s skin was ice cold, and he was shivering uncontrollably. Anakin carefully gathered him into his arms to keep him at least somewhat warmer, careful not to jostle his injured shoulder. That was all he could do for him.

_ Please, just hold on. Please… _

Anakin shook his head, furiously blinking back tears that threatened to start falling. He settled himself into a comfortable position, leaning his back against a wall. He was going to be sitting there for a while. Until the reinforcements arrived, he could do nothing but wait.

And think. Because if there was a single good thing about this nightmarish mission, it was the fact that one thing finally became clear to him.

He couldn’t keep doing this anymore.

He couldn’t remain a Jedi and Padmé’s husband at the same time. He had thought that he could, he had convinced himself that he could. But it was never true. 

Even if Obi-Wan survived this mission, there would be another incident one day. There would be another situation where he couldn’t save everyone. And he was terrified of the choice he would make. Of how far he would be willing to go to keep his wife safe.

He had to make his choice, for good this time. Padmé or Obi-Wan. Leave the Order or leave Padmé. It was the only way.

Anakin let out a deep, shaky sigh, and closed his eyes. He had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnn!  
> As always, please read & review! :)


	6. The Cavalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cavalry finally arrives, but will it be in time?

Seventeen hours later, Anakin was slowly beginning to realize that this was probably it.

They were still stuck in the turbolift room, and there was no sign of reinforcements so far. Obi-Wan’s time was quickly running out. Just a few hours ago, he would still occasionally stir, cough, or try to wake up, forcing Anakin to push him back under with another sleep suggestion.

But he hadn’t done any of those things in hours. He lay completely still in Anakin’s arms, barely clinging to life.

He was still breathing, but it wasn’t… normal… anymore. About once every minute, his breathing would get unnaturally shallow and…  _ stop _ . For almost ten full seconds, sometimes even a bit longer. Eventually, his body would start running out of oxygen and start breathing again, but only for a short while. The cycle would soon repeat again.

His lips weren’t blue, so he was somehow still getting enough air, but Anakin knew what this meant. He had seen a few badly injured clones breathe like that in the past. It was almost always a sign that the end was near. If the reinforcements didn’t arrive very soon, Anakin’s horrible mistake was going to cost him his life.

_ Isn’t that what you wanted? _ a cruel, mocking voice in Anakin’s mind sneered.  _ You made your choice. You knew that going to the comm tower alone could cost him his life, and you let it happen anyway. You chose Padmé’s life over his. So why are you surprised that he’s dying? Isn’t that what you chose? _

_ No,  _ Anakin thought desperately, large, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.  _ No… Force, never… never… _

Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Anakin had known that going to the comm tower was risky, but at the time, he had believed that Padmé was in danger as well. Obi-Wan was a Jedi Master, he knew how to fight. Padmé did not. Anakin tried to make sure they  _ both  _ survived. But he miscalculated. Horribly.

Obi-Wan’s breathing faltered and fell silent again. Anakin counted the seconds, desperately watching his chest for any sign of a movement. Five seconds… ten… still nothing…

Eleven… twelve…  _ oh, no… _

“Hey,” Anakin whispered, shaking him lightly. “You have to breathe, remember?”

Thirteen… fourteen… and still nothing…

Anakin twisted Obi-Wan’s wrist painfully, hard enough to leave bruises. It was a move normally used to subdue an opponent in hand-to-hand combat, by causing paralysing pain without any actual injury.

Anakin hoped that the pain would snap him out of it, but it didn’t. His chest was completely still. Anakin twisted his wrist again, even more painfully this time. Any harder than that, and he would break bones. And still, no attempts to breathe. His lips were starting to turn blue. And just when Anakin was seconds away from laying him down on the floor and starting CPR, Obi-Wan made a loud gasp and started breathing again. The blue tinge slowly faded away.

Anakin shuddered. His former Master was still fighting, but Anakin knew how little time there was left.

Anakin would never get a chance to apologize for what he had said and done. He would never get a chance to say goodbye. For some reason, Anakin had always thought that they would die together, in some kind of a heroic last stand. Not… not like  _ this _ .

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat when he sensed it. A faint, distant sensation… thousands of Force presences seemingly appearing out of nowhere, somewhere high above the upper edge of the atmosphere. The reinforcements finally arrived.

Just a few minutes later, the sounds of blasterfire, explosion and screeching starfighter and  _ LAAT/i _ engines filled the air. Anakin had never heard anything more beautiful.

He threw the door open and sprinted out onto the rooftop, waving his lightsaber above his head. It was total pandemonium outside. The clones and droids were furiously fighting both in the streets in the air, which was filled with blasterfire, smoke, and falling debris from the crashing vulture droids and tri-fighters.

One of the flying  _ LAAT/i _ s noticed Anakin’s signaling and landed on the rooftop. He hurriedly lifted Obi-Wan into his arms and carried him inside the  _ LAAT/i _ .

Anakin gave the clones a brief summary of Obi-Wan's condition and ordered the clones to take him to the cruiser’s medbay immediately and, for Force’s sake, _ hurry up _ . There were no medics on board the  _ LAAT/i _ , but all clones had basic first aid training. Hopefully, they would be able to keep him alive long enough to reach the cruiser.

Anakin desperately wanted to go with them. To make sure that his former Master was going to be all right, or, if it was too late for that, at least to hold his hand in his last moments.

But he knew he couldn’t. The battle wasn’t over yet, and Padmé and the ministers weren’t safe yet, either. Anakin already let his emotions cloud his judgement once today, with catastrophic results. He refused to do it again.

As the  _ LAAT/i  _ doors started to close, Anakin caught one last glimpse of Obi-Wan lying very still on the floor of the  _ LAAT/i _ , with two of the clone troopers kneeling at his side. His face was unnaturally pale, the same color as his white tunics. Anakin tried not to think about the fact that this could very well be the last time he saw him alive.

The transport’s doors slammed shut and it lifted off, heading towards the cruisers hovering above the atmosphere.

Anakin hailed another passing  _ LAAT/i _ , jumped on board and ordered the pilot to fly towards the palace. His comlink crackled; the Republic forces had finally destroyed or disabled the Separatist cruiser which had been jamming the comms. A hologram of a familiar Cerean Jedi Master appeared above his palm, urgently asking him about the situation. Master Mundi. It was his fleet that came to their rescue, then.

With the comms restored and the Separatist forces outnumbered, victory was just a matter of time. Less than thirty minutes later, the fighting was over. Two thirds of the Separatist forces were destroyed, the rest fled. The battle was won.

* * *

As soon as the palace was secure, Anakin ran through the catacombs to the hidden bunker, Master Mundi and a platoon of clone troopers following on his heels. The bunker’s secret door opened, revealing Padmé, Cody, the ministers, and the remaining clones—all safe and sound.

The Separatists never found the bunker. Padmé was never in any danger at all.

She gasped in horror as she saw Anakin. As he caught a reflection of himself in the visor of one of the clones, he understood why. He was pale as a ghost, his eyes bloodshot and with dark circles under them, his hands and tunics stained with dried blood.

“Anakin,” Padmé asked shakily, too shocked to remember to address him as “Master Skywalker,” as she usually did when they spoke to each other in public. “What happened? Where’s Master Kenobi?”

She went very pale when Anakin didn’t immediately answer, and when she realized that he was uninjured, and blood couldn’t be his.

“Is… is he…?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin whispered. “He got shot. I stopped the bleeding, but it might have been too late. One of the  _ LAAT/i _ s took him to the cruiser as soon as the reinforcements arrived, but… I don’t know, P—Senator.”

“Master Kenobi’s tough. I’m sure he’ll be alright,” Padmé said, not sounding too convincing. Commander Cody said nothing, but Anakin could see his deep concern and worry on his face. While Cody wasn’t quite as close to Obi-Wan as Captain Rex was to Anakin, he still cared deeply about his General.

Anakin tried to reach out with the Force, to feel how his former Master was doing, or if he was still even alive at all, but he couldn’t sense anything.

_ No, he can’t be dead, _ Anakin desperately tried to convince himself _. I would have felt it. _

Half a year ago, that would have been true. But now…

They had drifted apart so much since then. Their bond in the Force was nothing more than the faintest shadow of what it used to be, at the very verge of shattering completely. Anakin couldn’t sense anything through it at all.

Anakin shook his head and forced himself to focus on the mission. The sooner he finished it, the sooner he would be able to see Obi-Wan again.

He turned to address the Prime Minister, a tall Kallidahinan standing near Padmé along with several other ministers, and bowed.

“I deeply apologize for this incident, Prime Minister. I will be having very serious words with the Republic Intelligence for not warning us about the possibility of an ambush. The Separatist fleet has just been defeated with the help of our reinforcements. Both the palace and the capital city are clear and safe. We can return to finish the negotiations now.”

Of course, that was assuming that the ministers were still  _ willing _ to negotiate with the Republic. It was very possible that the attack already made them lose faith in the Republic’s ability to protect Subterrel, rendering the whole mission pointless.

To his surprise, the Prime Minister only gave him a small smile. “I think you underestimate Senator Amidala, Master Skywalker. She already finished the negotiations while we waited for the reinforcements to arrive. From this day on, Subterrel is officially a proud member of the Galactic Republic. Our planet will do everything in our power to help the Republic end this senseless war as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Prime Minister,” Anakin said, his bow masking his deep sigh of relief.  _ Oh, thank the Force. _

He turned to Padmé, who gave him a smile as well. If Master Mundi wasn’t present, Anakin would have kissed her in relief right there and then. Instead, he just bowed deeply. “You have my eternal gratitude, Senator.”

The mission was a success. While Subterrel didn’t have a particularly great strategic or military value, every little bit counted. To win the war, the Republic desperately needed every planet and ally it could get.

They have done it once again. Another battle won, another mission successfully completed. But it didn’t feel like a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please read & review! :)


	7. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin makes his choice at last.

_“No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world. And normally he doesn't know it.”_

— _Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist_

* * *

As soon as the transport docked with the cruiser, Anakin sprinted towards the medbay as fast as he could, dreading the worst.

Despite Anakin’s best efforts to finish the battle and mission as fast as possible, over an hour had already passed since he had last seen Obi-Wan. He could very well be dead by now. 

Anakin’s mind helpfully conjured up an image of his former Master lying in a white bed and taking his last breaths, completely alone, with no one at his side to comfort him in his final moments. _No, stop this,_ Anakin desperately ordered himself.

The medbay was packed and bustling with activity; the shuttles had just brought in the first batch of the wounded from the battle. Anakin must have looked really terrible, because one of the clone medics immediately walked towards him with an alarmed expression, grabbed Anakin’s shoulders and gently tried to steer him towards the nearest chair.

“Take it easy, sir. Sit down. You look like you’re about to collapse—”

“I’m fine,” Anakin snapped impatiently, shaking the medic’s hands off. “I’m looking for Master Kenobi. Please tell me he’s still alive.”

The medic’s expression softened. “Relax, sir. He’s still unconscious, but alive. It was a bit touch and go for a while, but he’s going to be alright.”

On a second thought, the chair had probably been a good idea. The wave of sheer relief made Anakin’s knees suddenly feel very weak and almost give way. He had to lean against a wall to stay on his feet. The medic harshly grabbed Anakin’s arm and physically forced him to walk to the chair and sit down. Anakin rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes for a few seconds, willing the wave of dizziness to go away.

“I have to see him. Please,” Anakin pleaded.

The medic gave him a sympathetic look. While Jedi generally treated being worried about people as some kind of a capital crime, the clones were a bit more understanding.

“On the condition that you allow me to check you over after,” the medic said sternly. “You’re as white as a sheet, General.”

“Fine,” Anakin grumbled. It was a waste of time, since he wasn’t injured, but it was probably as good of a deal as he was going to get.

The medic led Anakin to Obi-Wan’s room in the medbay and let him in. Anakin collapsed into the chair next to his former Master’s bed, burying his face in his hands for a moment.

Obi-Wan looked almost as bad as he had on the rooftop. He lay completely still, his face almost the same color as his pristine white hospital gown and blankets. His injured shoulder was hidden under thick bandages. Anakin winced as he noticed the alarming number of IVs and sensors attached to his arms and chest, and the worst of all, a transparent breathing tube coming from the corner of his mouth, attached to a machine that breathed for him. Anakin shuddered, instantly remembering how much trouble he had with breathing while they waited for the reinforcements.

But at least his presence in the Force felt a little bit stronger than before. Surely, that had to be a good sign.

The medic’s warm hand lightly squeezed Anakin’s shoulder.

“Relax, sir. The General’s going to be fine. Things looked pretty scary when the shinies brought him in, but he got much better once we got some artificial blood into him. Nice quick thinking with that lightsaber, by the way. You saved his life, sir.”

Anakin ignored the praise, avoiding the medic’s eyes. If he hadn’t let his emotions cloud his judgement, no quick thinking would have been required in the first place.

“What do you mean by ‘pretty scary’?” Anakin asked, not quite sure if he really wanted to know the answer. Did… did his heart stop? The medic didn’t answer, but the somber expression on his face answered the question for him. Anakin felt like he was going to throw up.

“How… how is his arm?” Anakin asked shakily, terrified of the answer to _that_ question, too. He had no way to know how deep the injury went. If some of the nerves were damaged…

“No permanent damage, luckily. Maybe apart from an ugly scar,” the medic said. Anakin closed his eyes in relief. _Thank the Force._

“Now, for the other end of our bargain,” the medic ordered sternly, pulling some kind of a hand-held sensor out of his pocket.

“Don’t move,” he instructed, and slowly moved the sensor around Anakin’s head and chest, checking his vital signs and looking for possible injuries.

“Fortunately, _you_ seem to be mostly alright, apart from mild shock, dehydration, and low blood sugar from not eating in a while. Nothing a meal and some rest won’t fix,” the medic announced and pushed a large glass of some kind of a green thick liquid into Anakin’s hand. “Drink,” he ordered.

Anakin warily sniffed the vile concoction. “I’m almost afraid to ask what that is.”

The medic chuckled. “It’s just food, sir. In a form that’s a bit easier to get down, since you don’t look like you could keep any actual food down right now. I’m not letting you out of here until you drink all of it.”

Anakin pulled a face, but he had to admit that the clone had a point. His body still quite hadn’t figured out that the danger was over now, and even the thought of food made him feel nauseous. He took a deep breath and forced himself to gulp down the nasty liquid as fast as he could. It tasted even worse than it looked, but it did make the light-headedness go away.

“I’m sorry, I have to go, sir,” the medic said apologetically. “It’s really busy here right now. You can stay with him if you want, but you’ll have to shower and change into something clean first. I’m afraid that he won’t wake up for at least two to three more hours, sir, and it will take a few more hours before he’s really coherent.”

Every part of Anakin desperately wanted to stay, but he couldn’t. There was something else he had to do. Something that couldn’t wait.

“Thank you, but… I’m sorry, I can’t,” Anakin mumbled, avoiding the medics’s eyes. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The medic gave him an understanding nod, probably assuming that he needed to attend a mission report or something like that. Anakin didn’t bother to correct him.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Master,” Anakin said quietly, lightly squeezing Obi-Wan’s cold hand. “I promise.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Anakin was standing in front of the door of the small cabin that had been assigned to Padmé. He had already cleaned up and changed into spare tunics borrowed from Master Mundi, since his own change of clean clothing had been destroyed along with their cruiser. The tunics were a bit too narrow in the shoulders, but at least they weren’t covered in blood.

Anakin took a deep, shaky breath, and knocked.

His wife opened the door, smiling at him. She was still wearing the elaborate Senate dress she wore during the negotiations, since she had nothing else to change into, either. But she had already removed the intricate headpiece and the white make-up, returning her features from those of a stern Senator to her usual, much more gentle ones.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padmé whispered, reaching out to hug him, but Anakin took a small step back. He didn’t deserve her hug, or her compassion. Not after what he had done.

“How is Master Kenobi?” Padmé asked, her face scrunching up with worry.

“He’s still unconscious, but the medics think he should make a full recovery,” Anakin mumbled, looking at the floor.

Padmé let out a deep, relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. That’s great news. I was really worried about him. When you arrived in the bunker, you looked really…” Padmé trailed off. “Ani, what’s wrong? That’s good news, isn’t it? Why are you looking so sad?”

“I… I need to talk to you, Padmé,” Anakin said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “It’s… important.”

* * *

Several long hours later, Anakin walked into the medbay and collapsed into a chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed. He was still asleep, but the breathing tube was gone now, replaced by a light oxygen mask. He seemed to be breathing normally on his own again. That was a good sign.

“Master?” Anakin whispered, lightly touching his hand, but there was no response.

Anakin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in exhaustion. He felt… strange. Tired, miserable, and sad, but also… somehow lighter. As if a great weight had fallen from his shoulders, a weight he hadn’t even realized was there until it was suddenly gone.

Anakin pulled a small japor snippet pendant out of his pocket, wistfully tracing his fingers along the simple, child-like symbols carved into it. He could still sense a faint echo of Padmé’s Force presence within it, bright and warm, like the first ray of sunlight breaking through a thunderhead.

He had given it the pendant to Padmé when he was nine, twelve years ago. She gave it back to him today. It wasn’t out of anger or bitterness, or anything like that. It was just… too painful for her to keep it anymore, after what Anakin told her.

After he confessed to her about what he almost caused today, with every shameful detail. After he finally admitted that there was only one way to rectify his mistake. He couldn’t, he _wouldn’t,_ let this happen ever again.

Maybe one day, when Anakin matured a lot, when the Sith were defeated and the war was over… maybe then, he would be able to leave the Order, and they could be together once more. They would be able to move to Naboo, to have children, a family.

But until then, they would have to stay apart. Anakin had put off the choice between her and the Order for over two years, but he finally made it.

He chose the Order.

It was the most painful thing he had ever done, and he had no kriffing idea if it was the right decision. He just felt... unmoored.

Padmé sobbed when he told her that—they both did—but she didn’t argue or disagree, not really. It was her who tried to convince Anakin that they were making a terrible mistake, two years ago. That, in time, it would destroy their lives—and it almost did. And not just theirs.

And Padmé wasn’t even in any real danger this time. If she _was_ … how much further would he have been willing to go?

They had decided to stay apart until the war was over and the mysterious Lord Sidious was defeated. They wouldn’t meet, they wouldn’t go on any missions together, they wouldn’t even talk to one another, neither in person nor in a hologram. Even that would be just too painful, too tempting. It was better to try to forget that the other had ever existed.

And Padmé had made him swear that if it ever came to a choice between her and Anakin’s duty, he had to choose the latter. If he broke that promise, even once, she’d never speak to him again, not even after the war was over. It seemed only fair.

The last words Padmé said to him before they parted ways were _I’m so proud of you, Anakin_ . Somehow, it meant more to him than _I love you_ ever had. It made the terrible weight on his heart a tiny bit lighter. If she was proud of him, then perhaps he was finally doing _something_ right.

A slight change in Obi-Wan’s breathing yanked Anakin out of his thoughts. His heartbeat seemed to accelerate a bit, too.

“Master?” Anakin whispered, touching his hand gently. “Can you hear me?”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and blankly stared at Anakin. Or, more like through him, since his eyes were only half-open and unfocused, and he didn’t seem to really comprehend anything of what he could see or hear yet. The medic did say that he would be very out of it for a couple more hours.

“How are you feeling?” Anakin asked him, although he doubted that he was going to receive a response. He didn’t get one, only slow, confused blinking. Obi-Wan weakly grabbed Anakin’s hand and squeezed his fingers slightly, clearly trying to tell him something, but Anakin had no idea what that something was.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Anakin mumbled apologetically. He felt so helpless. “What's wrong? Are you in pain? Cold?”

A slight shake of a head.

“Thirsty?” Anakin tried to guess. Obi-Wan shook his head again. Kriff. Anakin was out of ideas.

“I… I’m sorry, but I really don’t know what you mean,” Anakin said, his cheeks burning with shame. He felt like the biggest piece of poodoo in the galaxy. His former Master clearly needed his help with something, and Anakin couldn’t even tell what it was.

A year or two ago, they used to be much more in sync than this. Anakin would have guessed it easily then, but that time was long gone.

A long time ago, they even used to have a set of hand signals for words like _droids, droidekas, reinforcements, attack, go, retreat, behind you_ , and many others, that proved to be absolutely invaluable in battle. But Anakin couldn’t remember the last time they actually used that, and he had long since forgotten most of the signs.

Obi-Wan must have been thinking about the same thing, because he made one of the few signs that Anakin still somewhat remembered. A sign for either _attack_ or _go_ , Anakin no longer remembered which was which. Then he shook his head slightly, leaving Anakin even more confused than before.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…” Anakin started, and then his breath caught in his throat. The answer came to him easily, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

_Don’t go._

“You... you want me to stay?” Anakin whispered. Obi-Wan’s small nod made it clear that his guess was correct.

Stay… where? In this room? In the Order? In the fleet? Or all three? Anakin didn’t know.

And why? Why would Obi-Wan want Anakin anywhere near him, after what he’d done? And after all of the terrible things he said?

 _Oh._ Right. The clone did mention that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be quite awake for a couple more hours. And judging from his unfocused stare, he was still too out of it to remember where he was, what was going on, or even the fact that they weren’t friends anymore.

“All right. I’ll stay with you,” Anakin said quietly. “I won’t leave you again.”

His former Master gave him a bright smile and grabbed Anakin’s hand, as if to make sure he wasn’t going to leave. Anakin held his hand until he fell asleep a few minutes later.

For some strange reason, Anakin felt a tiny bit of strange warmth spread through his body. Their relationship was about to go back to its strained, distant self as soon as Obi-Wan was himself again, he had no illusions about that. He most likely wouldn’t even remember this conversation.

And yet… there was a part of his former Master that didn’t hate him. Perhaps not everything was lost yet. Maybe there was still a small hope of fixing things between them. Perhaps the Sith haven’t won after all, not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, at last, let the AU truly begin!
> 
> Yes, I couldn’t help myself, I had to reference that ROTS deleted scene again :D
> 
> Please leave a review on your way out! They feed my soul :)


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